


Sirius Black and the Sorting Hat

by furious_hope



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All characters genderbent, F/F, Gen, Genderbending, Hogwarts First Year, Marauders, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-01-27 07:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21388132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furious_hope/pseuds/furious_hope
Summary: Genderbent retelling of the Marauders' time at Hogwarts, beginning with first year from Sirius' perspective. Keeping fairly close to cannon although with eventual Wolfstar and a somewhat more progressive Wizarding World.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Sirius Black & Walburga Black
Kudos: 6





	Sirius Black and the Sorting Hat

Candles flickered in the cold, draughty entrance way of the Black Manor. No allowance was made for modernity; Heating Charms were a newfangled thing, created only in the eighteenth century. Besides, the Black family thought that suffering built character. Guests were no excuse for a change in tradition. The purpose of hospitality was to augment family standing, not to make others feel welcome. The Black family would not stoop to break their principles for lesser people, and the Blacks had no equals, let alone superiors. Their position as the Purest family in Magical Britain was maintained only through the strictest adherence to the Pureblood etiquette and tradition, which made their society so perfect.

A draughty corridor was thus the first welcome to meet guests. The cold air was heavy with magic, teeming with the thick, muggy atmosphere of ancient spells. The baleful presence of the Blood Wards weighed particularly heavily, concentrated in the entrance ways. Any guest venturing down the corridors could expect to be eyed by the multitude of watching portraits. Esteemed family members lined the walls, which had been extended upwards to fit the many Black ancestors back to the times of antiquity. In the gloom of the corridor, uncountable eyes watched, stretching up into the darkness above.

The Manor was the residence of the family only out of season, but to use their townhouse for such an occasion would be unspeakably gauche. This naming ceremony served to vaunt the new heir of the Black family, and impress upon the relevant people that power was being passed down in the old ways, the right ways. Guests flocked in, coming from every part of the world. The elite of Magical Britain were all here, as well as select others from foreign climes. Nobody spoke. Later, people would pay their respects to the new parents, and murmur the appropriate comments about family similarities and Blood Purity. For now, the traditional silence reigned, so that the name of the babe might be the first words spoken this eve. Down in the bowels of the house, house elves gave the gifts to the Black family house elves, for open present giving was gauche, but to not offer tribute was even more so. Every present had been painstakingly chosen to communicate the correct sentiments.

Whilst the ceremony purportedly centred around the babe, during the beginning of the evening, the cradle was somewhat neglected. The traditional blanket, a Black family heirloom, had a variant upon the Silencing Charm woven in it, so as to prevent parents being disturbed by unseemly crying. There was a legend that in the twelfth century a babe had perished beneath it, parents undisturbed by its cries, but that did not lessen its use. After all, it was an heirloom.

Instead, the Black parents greeted their many guests with imperious nods. The creme-de-la-creme of society were all gathered here. The acceptable branches of the Sacred Twenty-Eight mingled, all silently noting and passing judgment upon one another's clothing, manners, and bearing. Lapasia Nott wandered what had possessed Orion to invite the odious, grasping Slughorn, and whether it was some pitiful childhood gratitude. The Goyles snubbed Alicia Selwyn point blank, given that business on the Continent she had been involved in. The Carrows deigned to coldly nod at Alwin Ruthbert, an upstart politician whose family were appropriately Pure and inappropriately poor. He was rabid with the right sentiments, which was the sole reason for his inclusion.

Once everyone was gathered in the hall, the ceremony began. A circle formed in the silence. Every guest wore dark robes, facing inward with lit wands. Walburga and Orion Black drew their own wands and sliced across their thumbs. The sound of slicing flesh echoed wetly in the silent Hall. The babe was twisting in the cradle, small silent cries racking its chest. First Walburga, and then Orion, smeared blood across her forehead. Walburga looked down upon the babe, face betraying no emotion save a certain dignified pride. Orion’s face twisted in disgust when the babe squirmed away from his bloody finger. Once the warm blood had been spilled, they sealed their thumbs back up, and lifted the babe up from the cradle, their levitation charms twinning in a subdued glow of blueish light. She was kicking furiously, despite being barely two weeks old. Walburga tightened her spell’s grip. The blanket originally swaddling the babe was now looser, and her little chest was heaving, freed from constraint.

Her parents turned to face one another, the babe floating over the candle between them. Then they turned back towards the guests, back to back, their continued Levitation charms displaying their magical prowess. As one, they opened their mouths to announce the name, decided almost a decade ago. Guests leaned in to hear them, even in the deathly silence of the hall.

“Sirius —”

Each name was pronounced slowly, allowing the guests time to reflect on the ancestry and mythology they evoked.

“Belvina —”

There was an almost silent rustle as guests turned to look at the Burkes, who nodded in silent recognition of the favour that implied.

“Mizar -”

“- Auuughhhh!!”

A gigantic wail erupted from the floating bundle. Every guests’ head shot up to stare at the Levitated baby. Walburga turned, her face suppressing disapproval. Orion’s expression was far more open: incandescent with rage, his entire face contorted to resemble one of the glaring gargoyles perched atop the Manor’s roof.The crying broke the silence irrevocably. It broke the solemnity and grandeur of the ancient ceremony. It broke any semblance of dignity. The blanket had slipped; a little baby was crying her eyes out, screams no longer stifled. Walburga quickly shot up a Silencing Charm, but some unfortunate guest had began tittering, and whispers ran around the circle. As the whispers began to rumble louder, Orion ground his teeth and then screamed out “Black! Black.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting to avoid draft deletion, planning on editing.
> 
> [Now edited, intending to post second chapter this Thursday]


End file.
